


Grey

by SortaSaruhiko



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Depression?, Fluff, M/M, Yaoi, not really depression, sting x rogue, stingue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 17:25:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6338401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SortaSaruhiko/pseuds/SortaSaruhiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as Rogue could remember, he’s always had a light to guide him from the darkness. Sometimes, that light was right on time, and others, it showed up at the last second; but that was what his light was famous for, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grey

For as long as Rogue could remember, he’s always had a light to guide him from the darkness. Sometimes, that light was right on time, and others, it showed up at the last second; but that was what his light was famous for, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

 

* * *

 

 

The Shadow Dragon groggily woke to a major shift in his shared bed. Shielding his eyes from the sun, a pillow would be dragged over his head, his lips only slightly parting to let out a grunt.

“Eurgh, Sting, stop moving so much.”

“Hm, five more minutes...”

Of course, the goofball wasn’t even awake. Although Rogue couldn’t blame him, last night had been… rough. For the both of them. Though he wouldn’t go into _detail_ , he’d just leave it at ‘a very exhausting turn of events.’

Out of sheer curiosity, Rogue forced himself to roll over and check the time, squinting in the process because once more, the sun found it entertaining to temporarily blind him.

“Ugh.”

The clock read that it was just past eleven. _At least we didn’t oversleep_ too bad. He’ _s got a guild to run, after all._

Returning to his original position, facing his ‘twin’ of sorts, a pale set of fingers would reach out to poke him on the neck. (He would’ve much preferred the cheek, but as of late, Sting wasn’t facing him when he slept.) Earning no response from the gesture fueled him to try giving it a ticklish pinch, and-

“Hey, that tickles..!” The guild master attempted to shield the sensitive skin by hunching his shoulders up- which never seemed to stop Rogue from his devilish intrusion of sleep.

“It’s time to get up.”

“Alright, I’m up, just- _stop_ that already!” By now Sting was supporting his weight on one elbow, looking over his back at the one currently teasing him. “See? I’m up.”

“Hardly. Get out of bed and I’ll believe you.”

“But I’m naked.”

“And?”

“It’s cold!”

“It's your fault for not wearing clothes to bed.” The paler of the two finally tossed the covers off himself, revealing that _one_ of them knew how to properly dress for sleep. He currently wore a baggy t-shirt and thinner looking sweats, because sometimes Sting could get little _too_ clingy at night. “Now get up, or I'm not making you anything for breakfast.”

“Hey, that's not fair.” Despite his protest, the light user reluctantly shimmied out from under the covers, almost instinctively diving for the pair of boxers he always seemed to shed before he slept. Though very rarely, at Rogue’s request, they would be left on if cuddling got _too_ awkward. (Which it usually was, but the Shadow Slayer was too gentle to tell someone already half asleep something so seemingly harsh.)

Since his lover had already left the room, he was left to rummage through his clothes - which, for the record, were in various places, including the floor and hanging from his chest of drawers - in search of a warm selection to keep the heat in his body.

“You'd better still cook for me,” Sting called from their bedroom, picking up the faint sounds of his dearest rummaging through what he could only guess were an assortment of cabinets and thin, rippable plastics. After situating his body into an appropriate appearance, the blond would come to see what the other may be doing, quite prepared to make a speech on why he deserved breakfast.

But much to his dismay, it seemed that speech would have no effect either way.

“I never said I was cooking, anyways. I'm not a 5 star hotel, find your own food.” The taller  currently held a breakfast bar between his fingers, the wrapper peeled back just less than halfway with a chunk from the top missing.

“You tricked me!” A thinned lower lip was jutted outwards to form a pout, which Rogue couldn't quite tell if it was real or a little too practiced.

“Because you'll be late for the Guild Assembly you told _everyone_ to be sure to attend. That includes you, you know.” Once or twice, Sting would request the presence of as many Sabertooth participants as possible for a meeting of sorts. They weren't exactly pep talks, but calling them lectures didn't strike a home run, either. Sometimes they were updates, or requests that may in turn benefit here and there. And most of the time, it was Rogue or Yukino who pointed out the things and topics he touched in his talks- though he wasn't a _complete_ airhead, he was definitely carefree and energetic, enough so to where that's all that ever seemed to matter without _some_ kind of persuasion technique used.

“I did plan that, didn’t I..?”

Today's assembly was on job requests. It had been discussed with him by Yukino that the amount of jobs on the board had increased, and some had been there for quite some time; alongside the fact that the Guild’s funds had recently been declining. In other words: Sabertooth was getting lazy. Rogue had been the one to suggest making an assembly out of it, and because his ego was high and mighty and he wanted to look like a ‘badass guild master’, he simply couldn't pass the opportunity up.

“There’s still time for you to make breakfast, though.”

“Just because you asked, I won't.”

“Aww, c’mooon!”

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Pleaaaase, Rogue?”

Aside from the sound of a certain someone walking away, Sting was given no response.

* * *

 

“Hmph, you're such a scrooge.”

“Just because I wouldn't make you breakfast doesn't mean I hate Christmas, Sting.”

“You know what I mean!”

“Do I?”

The blond emitted an exaggerated grown, his throat wavering the longer he kept it going. He knew that it would eventually get on Rogue’s nerves, and that's exactly why he did it.

By now they had finally taken off for Sabertooth, Rogue holding another energy bar that was already half eaten, while Sting tossed his apple into the air every few seconds and caught it just after. Their little  apartment was quite a way from the guild, only because they didn't want to be bombarded by wannabe wizards trying to make an act of themselves, or girls fawning over Sting after his second debut in _Sorcerer Weekly_. When the light user had late nights in his office, it was often Rogue who carried him home via his favorite route- the shadows, of course- and not being bothered by a soul on such an unusual route. Rural as it was, that was what they both preferred, and they wouldn't trade it for a thing.

Sting had noticed a silence now loomed over them, which always seemed to happen, but even so, it always bothered him. He could never tell what Rogue was thinking, or how much it may have bothered him, which made Sting… well, he was virtually useless unless his lover gave him a blueprint of his brain. He'd almost talked the other into it once, but gave up after he'd been threatened with no kisses for a week.

“So… wanna tell me about last night?”

Last night. For both of them, the spoken time had been emotional and stressful. Rogue's nightmares had started popping up more than usual- and Sting couldn't quite tell if the other knew why or not; either way, it was something he wanted to help, regardless of the secrets his lover may currently hold. Even if he wasn't the most understanding or considerate person at times, he knew from past experience that the road to recovery definitely wasn't one they could walk overnight.

“What's there to talk about?” It was only expected that the Shadow user shy away from the conversation that had been bugging them both. Sting had known to expect that much, so saying he was surprised was similar to saying the sky was green; it wasn't remotely true.

“Do you wanna… tell me what happened? In the dream, I mean. You could make it simple, yeah.”

“...It was the same as always. I..” Red oculars averted to the opposite side out of nervousness, reluctance. Rogue knew that they should talk about this _now_ , while they were alone, but he couldn't stop the lump in his throat from forming. After a period of silence that felt a little too long, too agonizing, a pale hand sought for a slightly smaller, but sun kissed hand. Much to his relief, the uncommon gesture was returned, as Sting gave his fingertips a reassuring squeeze.

“But it was me that killed him, instead of you doing it. You still ended up.. _dying_ , though. And then it got dark, just like before.” He didn't need to tell the other who _him_ was; it was something they both already knew.

“I'm still here,” Sting’s gentle tone caused the taller of the two to bring his attention to the awaiting eyes, beautifully blue and as vibrant as always. To ensure that Rogue wouldn't be looking away anytime soon, his footsteps ceased, and his free hand came to brush aside the ebony tendrils that blocked his view of his lover’s full face. “See? I'm your light. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.”

“I.. I know.”

“Just thought I'd remind you.” After the utterance left his lips, Sting’s hand trailed back to the base of the other’s hairline, loosely grasping the messy locks and brushing outwards. He took the opportunity to bring Rogue closer, just close enough to meet him halfway for a delicate kiss- one that had been more than gladly returned. It was only short, kept brief, just as all of their public kisses had been. Rogue was still iffy when it came to PDA, so a certain, lovey-dovey Guild Master would take whatever he would get.

And it seemed the more secluded of the two was just as content as he was, by the looks of the miniature smile that spread across his lips once their act of affection ended.

“Yeah.”

“C’mon, let's go before Yukino scolds me for being late to my own party.”

A small chuckle sounded from the taller’s vocals. “Since when is a meeting considered a party?”

“Well… since now?”

“See… this is why we can't have nice things.”

“Did- did you just-?” The blond’s jaw had dropped to the ground; since when did Rogue known how to _roast_? “When is insulting my preference of names appropriate?”

And then the smile on the ravenette’s visage grew into a comical smirk. “Well… since now?”

**Author's Note:**

> More will be explained in future chapters, including the whereabouts of their little exceeds and more on Rogue's nightmare as well~. Thanks for reading!


End file.
